A Thing With Feathers That Perches On The Soul
by mml94
Summary: Warning: First chapter written like a movie trailer. Summary is there.Birdsong after a storm is filled with hope and cheer. The aftermath of the storm that was Eagle Strike had no hope or cheer, at least not for Yassen. Chapter 1 better than summary.
1. Chapter 1

"'Why keep trying? You've made four attempts at escape since I've arrived here.  
Surely you don't think you're going to get out?'  
'Hope. We all need hope here Yassen, even you.'  
'Hope will not free you.'  
'That's what the wire cutters are for'"

It's been two weeks since Yassen Gregorovich "died". For some reason, unknown to him, MI6 chose to save him. At least, that's how it would seem. Robbed of a noble death protecting Alex Rider, Yassen has been slung into a high security Prison Camp.The only reason he's still alive is that his government will not let the British execute him. Yassen is a P.O.W. at a camp that contains some of the most deadly men on the face of the planet. It's there that Yassen meets Nickolay, a twenty year old hit-man who, in his own words, specialises 'In kicking ass and taking names'. In government terms, political terrorism. Nickolay changes Yassen's outlook on life with his wide sense of humour, pride, bravery and above all, hope. Then Nickolay hatches a plan that he claims "Will make the perps of the Great Escape hang their heads in shame". Will Yassen dare to hope again for freedom? Will the plan work out or will it lead to recapture like the rest of Nickolay's escape ideas? What does the Russian government demand in return for Yassen's death warrant?

Why not wait and find out?

10/1/08

"'The ball is in motion'  
'Wait, I thought I was the ball'  
'No, you're the Eagle'  
'I thought Yassen was the Eagle?'  
'No, Yassen's the Osprey'  
'What the hell is an Osprey?'  
'It's a type of bird'  
'With wings?'  
'No, with fucking scales! Of course it has bloody wings!'  
'There's no need to be so rude.'  
'Obviously it has wings if it's a bird! What sort of idiot doesn't clock that!?'  
'I'm not an idiot!'  
'No, you're a special kind of idiot who's too stupid to know he's an idiot!'  
'Sorry but you've completely lost me'"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Alex Rider series. I do own Nickolay. **

**Author's Note: I would just like to take this moment in time to congratulate you. If you are reading this, you haven't just scrolled down past the pretentious author's note to get to the story. You are a very nice person.**

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Yassen Gregorovich rolled onto his side and stared at the grimy wall of his cell. He'd been in this hell hole for just over six days. He was due for release anytime now. Anytime at all.

The door ground open and a soldier stood in the doorway, armed with an MI6.

"On your feet!" he ordered.

Yassen hauled himself to his feet and stood as the soldier clapped on a pair and handcuffs and dragged him out of the dark cell. Yassen kept his eyes on the floor while he was propelled back to his cabin.

Yassen had thought back time and time again to the last few moments on Air Force One. He didn't know how the bullet had missed anything vital. It didn't make sense to him. And it wasn't fair. he had been ready to go.

Yassen was escorted to his cabin and then a soldier unlocked the door, letting Yassen go in. He unlocked the handcuffs and Yassen rubbed his wrists, glad to be free of the chafing metal. Yassen hurried into the dull cabin and threw himself onto his bed only to fall straight through and onto the worn wooden floor of the cabin.

He heard a set of loud laughs and rolled his eyes. He could have killed anyone of them if he wasn't locked up here. He'd probably be shot anyway for killing another prisoner.

The small cabin held two sets of bunk beds and two windows that let in the rain and cold in the winter and gave no protection from the heat during the summer. A naked bulb hung from the ceiling providing the room with it's only source of light after the sun went down. An ancient radiator stood in the corner, long ago broken and yet to be fixed. The beds were made of pine and covered in scratchy white sheets, thin navy blankets and sagging mattresses that were held up only by three strips of pine. Yassen could guess the pine holding his up had been removed and the mattress left on top, barely holding in place.

Yassen got to his feet quickly and stared at the other three inhabitants of the cabin. All of them stared back innocently.

Yassen studied each face closely and determined that he wouldn't get a confession though if he could guess he would have said it was the only other Russian besides him at the Prison Camp. Nickolay Petrov.

Nickolay grinned at Yassen.

"You should have seen your face!" he exclaimed before bolting from the cabin.

Yassen decided that he would give chase and set off after Nickolay, determined to punch the young man at least once in the face for the prank.

Yassen tore along the dusty area that passed for an exercise field and caught sight of Nickolay ducking into the shower room. Yassen raced toward the showers, flinging himself through the door and heard the tell tale noise of a window shutting at the back.

He hurried through the large hut, feet slapping through the puddle on the floor out to the back where he pulled himself through the window and dropped down on the other side, taking off sprinting. Yassen could feel the sweat rolling down his forehead and he relished the physical activity. He pumped his legs harder and skidded round a corner, sure that Nickolay would go that way and suddenly stopped. Nickolay stood twenty feet ahead, staring at the large, electrically charged, barbed wire fence that encircled the Camp.

Yassen jogged up to Nickolay and lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Yassen, I have a plan" Nickolay said quietly. Yassen frowned slightly. Nickolay came up with a hare-brained scheme for escape at least once every three days, all of which failed. He was somewhat of an urban legend in the camp. He'd made it out beyond the fence over twelve times, each breakout inevitably ending in him being thrown into the 'Cooler', as it was known. Yassen had already witnessed twice Nickolay failing to get past the fence, once clinging to the bottom of a truck the second time knocking out two guards only to be caught at the gates, with the keys.

"All I need are two lengths of pine, a ten foot long piece of rope and a bedspring" Nickolay muttered, turning away from the fence. Yassen considered what to do. In the end, he settled on his favourite idea. He punched Nickolay straight in the face. Nickolay spat out some blood and grinned.

"The look on your face!" he said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Was a good deal more handsome than the one on yours" Yassen said, throwing an arm around Nickolay's shoulders in a rare gesture of affection.

"Come on you moron! It's getting on for lights out" Yassen said, tugging Nickolay away from the fence. Just as they returned to the cabin the siren went off to signify lights out. Yassen strode over to the window and looked out to see the soldiers patrolling the camp.

Nickolay lay on his bed, hands behind his head staring at the roof. Yassen knew from the look on his face that he was mulling over an escape plan.

Yassen considered the other two men in the cabin closely. One was Northern Irish, he'd introduced himself as Michael Peters. He was the smallest of the men, standing a mere 5'4. The other was an American who good-naturedly confessed that he'd 'swindled the British out of 40 million'. His name was Blake and he was only alive because he wouldn't tell where he'd hidden the money.

Yassen grabbed the timber missing from below his bed which had been hidden under Blake's and put it back in place, flopping onto his bed with a quiet sigh. Nickolay lay on the bunk above Yassen with Blake and Michael sharing the other set.

Nickolay clambered up into his bed and lay down, turning over once or twice. Yassen closed his eyes, deciding he might as well sleep.

Just as he was starting to drift off into a dream he heard a noise and sat up in his bed.

He was just in time to see the cabin door close. He cursed in his head and rolled out of his bunk, slipping on his boots and hurrying out the door after Nickolay.

He just caught sight of him whipping round the corner of a cabin further down. Yassen ran, crouching, after him.

"Nickolay!" he called out as quietly as possible.

Nickolay looked around at him for a second and motioned urgently with his left hand for Yassen to follow him.

Yassen hurried over to where Nickolay crouched and Nickolay smiled.

"Okay, so, we're going to have to-" Yassen grabbed Nickolay by the scruff of his neck and dragged him bodily back to the cabin, shoving him in angrily.

"Yassen, what do you think you're-"

"Shut up and listen. Do you have any idea how dangerous what you just did was? You could have been shot! Are you stupid or something!?" Yassen said angrily.

Nickolay scowled and jumped onto his bunk, causing a loud creaking noise.

Blake shot up in bed and looked over, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"What's happening?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing, go back to sleep" ordered Yassen.

Blake nodded sleepily and lay down again.

Yassen got to his feet and lifted himself onto Nickolay's bunk angrily.

"Nickolay, this has to stop. This constant attempt escaping. It hasn't worked out so far, has it?" Yassen said quietly.

Nickolay shrugged.

"You don't understand. You've only been here just over a week. You've only ever been six days in the Cooler. I've been here three years, three hundred and twenty days. I've spent just over two years of that time in the Cooler. When you've done that kind of time, then you can lecture me about escaping. It's the only thing that gets me through. The only thing while I'm in the Cooler, lying on the floor, legs stiff, muscles aching for exercise, that I think of are escape plans. And then I can bear it all, every last inch of it. Because I have a sliver of hope, just a little tiny thing to live for" Nickolay said.

Yassen frowned. he'd never known that Nickolay had been at the Camp that long.

"But Yassen, I think I have a chance coming up, two days from now. You can come too if you want. I think I have it this time. It's simple really. All I need is a lookout" Nickolay said, looking at Yassen pleadingly.

Yassen shook his head half heartedly.

"Fine" he said, not strong enough to wrench the last bit of Nickolay's hope away from him. Nickolay grinned and just as Yassen was about to jump down from the bed the door of the cabin burst open and four soldiers appeared from nowhere, grabbing Blake and dragging him mercilessly from his bed. Nickolay jumped down and stood blocking the door.

"Where are you taking him?" he snapped, eyes defiant. Yassen knew that look. It was the look that came when Nickolay was going to be a stubborn fool.

"Get out of the way Petrov or I'll move you myself!" growled one of the soldiers. Yassen recognised the voice of the SAS man that was in charge of all the soldiers. The other soldiers called him Wolf but the prisoners had a special name for him. Murphy. As in Dropkick Murphy. Rumour had it that Wolf had once drop kicked a prisoner during interrogation.

"Just try it" Nickolay said quietly. Wolf growled and raised his rifle.

Yassen jumped from the bunk in a very rare gesture of self sacrifice and held up his hands.

"Nickolay, get back in bed, now!" he ordered quietly, eyes angry. He stared at Nickolay just daring him to disobey.

All the soldiers but Wolf backed away from Yassen in fear. Nickolay glared at Yassen.

"I don't need you to baby me!" he protested. Yassen grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and shoved him back to the other side of the cabin. Wolf smirked and started to move forward when Nickolay jumped back at Yassen and punched him in the face. Yassen ignored the stinging sensation and delivered a roundhouse kick to Nickolay's face, drawing blood from his nose for the second time that day.

Nickolay reeled backward then lunged forward, grabbing Yassen by the back of the neck and pulling him forward, simultaneously bringing up his knee. Yassen felt the hot, sickly blood running from his nose and ignored it, grabbing Nickolay around the waist and ploughing him forward and smashing him against one of the walls, wood splintering loudly. Michael shot up in bed and pulled a knife out from under his pillow, jumping straight onto Yassen's back and skulling him with the bottom of the handle.

The soldiers momentarily let go of Blake and pulled out truncheons, clubbing Michael across the face, taking Nickolay out by hitting him in the back of the knees and knocking him to the floor. Yassen held up his hands and got down onto his knees, eyes burning angrily, body as tense as a spring about to be released. Plasti-cuffs were slapped around Yassen's wrists and he was pulled to his feet and shoved out the door, Nickolay and Michael two steps behind.Yassen felt the cold air attack his skin and cursed himself mentally. Why had he stopped Nickolay?

Yassen caught his bearings when he was shoved violently into the Prison Camp Commandant's office. The Commandant sat behind his desk and looked up, mildly surprised that his soldiers had burst in with three bloody, angry looking prisoners. One of the soldiers dragged Blake out, making for the interrogation block. Wolf stepped forward and saluted the Commandant.

"Sir, these three prisoners started a full-scale brawl in their cabin in my presence, damaging the cabin itself and injuring fellow prisoners. Peters pulled a knife on Gregorovich, who seriously injured Petrov" Wolf reported stonily.

The Commandant nodded, eyeing up each man separately.

"Alright then. Cooler. Two weeks for Gregorovich, three for Petrov and a month for Peters" he said, turning his gaze back to the files lying open before him.

"What!? A fucking month! You're fucking joking!" Peters spluttered angrily.

The Commandant looked at him and shook his head warily.

"I assure you, I don't make jokes Mr. Peters" he said.

"How come Yassen only gets two fucking weeks!? He started the whole fucking thing!" Peters complained.

The Commandant shook his head again.

"Get them out of here. Cooler" he said.

Yassen was pulled from the office and back out into the cold.

"Get your hands off me now before I break them" he said quietly. Instantly, the guard who'd been gripping him let go and Yassen walked the last few yards to the cooler. Wolf pushed Nickolay through the door and he nearly collided with the four soldiers on constant duty in the Cooler. One of them signed all three men in and then led them down the cold grey corridor to their cells.

Yassen walked into his and looked around at the blank nothingness that occupied it. Cursing himself mentally he slumped down in the far corner, intending to sleep.

"Yassen. Yassen" a voice wafted from the small sink in the corner opposite Yassen.

Yassen turned his back to the sink, entirely certain who was calling him and twice as determined to ignore it.

"Yassen, shift your big head over to the sink!" came a whispered order.

The corners of Yassen's mouth twitched slightly.

"Yassen, come on, I have a plan! All I need is a bucket. That's it. It's ingenious!" the voice said.

Yassen frowned. A bucket? How would a bucket aid an escape?

"Yassen, I have a great joke for you. Two Russians and an Irishman are in the cooler. The younger Russian says to the older one "Don't be so selfish, get your behind over to that sink now!" The older Russian says-"

"Stop talking about plans, you're starting to give me a headache. Ask Michael is he okay" Yassen commanded, crawling over to the sink.

"I already did. He's fine. Seething over the injustice of his sentence but otherwise fine. Anyway, why'd you only get two weeks? I got three! You were out of order in the hut, you know that?" Nickolay said quickly, pleased to have someone to talk to through the pipes.

"I was trying to keep you out of trouble. You should be grateful. Next time, I just won't bother" Yassen replied.

There was a minute long silence and then Nickolay mumbled something.

"What did you say?" asked Yassen, curiosity sparked.

"I said I'm sorry I punched you and thank you for stopping me from doing something I'd regret. Three weeks is a walk in the park compared to what I'd get for attacking a soldier" Nickolay said quietly.

Yassen lay spread-eagled on the floor and tilted his head back. In the cooler, there was nothing but time. Time and your thoughts. Yassen's thoughts fell to Alex Rider and Yassen frowned slightly. The boy was either very clever or incredibly stupid. Either way, there was no denying he had courage. Lots and lots of courage.

"Yassen, can you hear that?" came a hushed voice.

Yassen listened carefully and heard footsteps moving along the passage. "What are they doing?" he asked in a hushed tone.

Nickolay made a grunting noise.

"I think they're going to Michael's cell" he said quietly.

Yassen frowned and then listened carefully as a door scraped open. He heard the tell-tale mumble and the shouted orders to "Get up!" and "Face the wall!".

Then, he heard a yell of pain and he rushed to the door and started banging on the metal with his fist, Nickolay doing the same in his cell. "Michael, Michael!" called Yassen loudly.

"Yassen, help! Help!" came a pained yelp. Yassen pounded on the door again. Suddenly, a voice rose over the noise and bustle yelling:

"Hey, Wolf, is it true you're a bit fruity? That you bat for the other team, shall we say? Is that what you want Michael for? He is kind of handsome, if you're into that sort of thing".

Yassen growled softly. Was that boy trying to get himself killed!?

Yassen moved over to his door and stared out through the tiny slot in the thick metal. He saw Wolf stop where he stood and look around angrily.

"What did he say!?" he yelled, banging over to Nickolay's cell and unlocking the door with the fingerprint pad that opened the door, the only modern device in the Cooler.

Wolf stormed in and there was a scuffle then he appeared again, dragging Nickolay by the scruff of his neck then kicking his legs out from under him and sending him banging to the floor.

"Petrov, I could end it all for you now! Do you a favour! I could beat you to a pulp and no-one would care! Put an end to your pathetic little 'escapes'" Wolf growled angrily.

Yassen stiffened. He knew Nickolay was going to do something stupid.

"Touched a nerve, have I?" cooed Nickolay. Wolf growled ferally and jumped on Nickolay, beating him round the face with cold, well aimed punches. Yassen winced slightly as Wolf grabbed Nickolay by the hair and slammed his head off the ground.

"Wolf, leave him alone!" Yassen snapped before he knew what he was doing.

Wolf paused and looked up at the slot.

"What did you say Gregorovich?" he barked.

"I said leave him alone!" Yassen repeated angrily, fists clenched.

"What are you Gregorovich, his mother!? Or maybe you're not his mother. Maybe you're something else to him. His bit on the side?" Wolf mocked. The other soldiers jeered and laughed. Yassen growled quietly.

"Whatever it is that you like to imagine to help you sleep, by all means think it but I'm disgusted that you'd voice such obviously personal thoughts" Yassen said, keeping his voice level. Wolf looked up and grinned nastily.

"I...will...get...you...two...later...when...I...get...back" he said, banging Nickolay's head off the ground with each word. Yassen smirked slightly.

"Why? Have you got other duties here that we don't know about? Or is it something else? It's about time the shifts change over, isn't it? You just pulled off a 16 hour shift, that's another over-time shift as well, isn't it? So someone wants a little extra cash. Are congratulations in order, lieutenant Wolf? Is someone about to be a father? I never forget a face Wolf, never. And if I get out of here, I swear I will hunt you down and make you pay for the little bits of fun you've enjoyed, hurting anyone I know. And I'm sure you wouldn't want me to harm a hair on Mrs. Wolf's head. Or baby Wolf for that matter" Yassen said coldly.

Wolf stared at him, mouth wide open, eyes blazing with rage and a streak of worry.

"What's wrong Wolfie? Have I touched a nerve?" Yassen said goadingly. Wolf hauled himself to his feet and stormed over to the door of Yassen's cell, pressing his face up against the slot.

"It's a good thing you won't get out then, isn't it?" he said quietly.

Yassen smiled wildly.

"You never know. Stranger things have happened. Like a woman letting you within fifty feet of her" Yassen sneered.

Wolf growled and pressed his finger against the scanner. The door opened and Wolf stared coldly at Yassen.

"I'd be careful if I were you Gregorovich. I know all about you. Read you file when I first got here. I know all about the women you've had. I know about the things you've done. The people you killed. I know more about you than your own mother. Speaking of your mother, I know exactly what happened to her and I have to say, you must ashamed of yourself. Leaving a defenceless pregnant woman to her drunken, knife-wielding husband. Leaving your unborn younger brother and sister to die? That's one of the coldest things I've ever heard of-"

"Keep you're mouth shut! You don't know what you're talking about!" Yassen roared angrily, veins sticking out on his neck, losing the self control he'd worked hard to keep intact since his imprisonment.

"What's wrong Gregorovich? Have I touched a nerve?" growled Wolf, grinning in a self-satisfied manner.Yassen clenched his hands in fists and adapted a karate stance. Wolf grinned.

"Ah-ah-ah. You lay a finger on me you'll get plenty of time to bond with that cell of yours here" he tutted. Yassen scowled and stepped back from Wolf, not willing to give that idiot the satisfaction.

Wolf closed the door again and Yassen sat down in the corner, head tilted back against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. Women he'd, as Wolf so politely put it, 'had'? How did he know any of them?

Yassen never told anyone about his love life. If you could call it love. It was more lust. Yassen wanted to sleep with a woman then he slept with her. He'd never had any problems finding someone to do the deed with.

But how had MI6 found out about his orphaning? No-one knew about it. Yassen felt the memory unwilling tugging him back and he was suddenly reliving the entire thing again...

_A short, large eyed Yassen sat on his bed quietly, a book open in his lap and tracing the words with his tiny finger._

_He got to his feet and left the book down on his bed, ambling over to the window and hoisting himself up to see over the sill._

_Suddenly, his bedroom door burst open and his mother hurried into the room, closing the door and barring it quickly with a chair._

_Yassen looked at her curiously. She looked stressy._

_She grabbed Yassen and lifted him, a thing she hadn't done since her tummy started bulging, and carried him over to his wardrobe, opening it and pulling out his oldest trousers, the ones he wore when he was painting._

_"Yassen, put these on. Quickly!" she ordered, handing him the trousers. Yassen changer quickly and his mother hugged him tightly._

_"I love you darling. It might not seem like it, but I love you" she said quietly, tears rolling onto Yassen's head._

_"Under the bed love. Don't come out til I yell go. Then you run baby. Run down into the town and-", a loud smash as the front door burst open drowned her voice out, "No time. Quick, under the bed!" she said urgently._

_Yassen crouched and slid under the bed, watching closely. His bedroom door burst open and his father stumbled in._

_"You shlut! You dirty god-damn whore! Where's your bastard!?" he slurred in a rage. Yassen bit back a gasp as he saw the wicked glint on the knife his father hand and frowned. _

_He saw his father lunge at his mother and hack brutally, blood pouring from her stomach and spattering the floor._

_"GO!" she yelled. Yassen's father hacked and slashed and Yassen ran, tears slipping from his eyes as he stumbled out the front door, the cold attacking him violently. _

Yassen blinked. He frowned, disgusted with himself. He was crying. Crying over a memory, a mere memory.

He rubbed his eyes violently and blinked twice. He sat up straight as he hear purposeful footsteps striding along the corridor toward his cell.

The door flew open and Yassen squinted against the light. A young soldier stood there, looking at him apprehensively.

"Come on Yassen, you have a visitor. Do you want to put the cuffs on yourself?" the soldier said nervously, his voice thickly laced with a Scottish accent.

"What would your lieutenant Wolf say if he knew you were petrified of me?" Yassen asked, face in shadows, toying with the boy.

"Look, I'll toss them over to you and you snap them on" the soldier said, voice cracking.

Yassen grunted an affirmative and the soldier carefully slid a pair of handcuffs across the floor to him. Yassen put them on quickly and got to his feet. No-one ever got visits. Unless they were being taken for interrogation and the soldiers didn't want a fuss.

Yassen allowed the soldier to lead him quietly from his cell only to stop when he heard Nickolay call out "Yassen, you going for a 'chat'?" he asked sleepily.

Yassen allowed a slight smile of amusement onto his features.

"I have a visitor" he said quietly.

Nickolay gave a sharp bark of laughter.

"Good luck with that" he called.

Yassen continued out of the Cooler and the soldier shakily led him to the Recreational Cabin where he unlocked the door and let Yassen go in alone.

Yassen sat down at a table in the middle of the Cabin and waited. He lay his hands on the table and lazily looked around like a large jungle cat in the middle of an African summer.

The door on the other side of the cabin opened and Yassen frowned. Jones.

The repulsive woman made her way over to the table and sat down, sucking on a peppermint.

"Well Yassen, we meet again" she said quietly.

Yassen stared stubbornly at her, eyes glinting with fury, face otherwise relaxed.

"I won't keep you long, I'll just tell it to you straight. Alex Rider recently fell in with SCORPIA. I don't want to know what you told him, I don't want to know why. The thing is, he feels used and I can't see him working for us again under these conditions. I was wondering if you'd do me a small favour. He insisted on meeting you once he found out you were alive and we insisted he let himself be psyciatrically examined before he got even a chance of talking to you. Our psychiatrist says the preliminary's are looking very interesting. Alex seems to regard you as the last link to his father. He worries about you, now he knows you're not dead. He seems to have formed a bond with you, whether you know it or not. I think you and that housekeeper Jack are the only people he sees as family at the moment. I don't think he's stable enough to go back into the field. Especially if he's not fully concentrating on his mission instead of thinking are you all right. This is **not **for your sake, it's for Alex's" she said in a hushed tone.

Yassen tilted his head to one side. Alex wanted to talk to him? Here? Now?

"You care about him Yassen, I can see that" Jones said softly.

Yassen's eyes hardened and he gave her a contemptuous stare.

"You see nothing about me" he said coldly.

Jones smirked and Yassen's fingers twitched, reaching for the gun he didn't have.

"That's what you'd like us all to think Yassen. Now, do you want to meet him or not?" she said, checking her watch for the time.

Yassen shrugged and Jones chuckled softly.

"Getting soft in your old age?" she said mockingly.

Yassen did not reply. Jones got to her feet and strolled over to the door, leaving Yassen alone in the cabin once again.

Yassen breathed deeply and crossed his arms. Whatever came through that door, he was ready for it. Any thoughts of escape or Nickolay or the Cooler vanished as the door opened and Alex Rider stepped into the cabin...

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**Any suggestions at all on how that chapter could have been better? And in case you're wondering, Alex is not going to be a regular character in this story. He will appear but this is Yassen centric.**


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